


held him captive in my kiss

by cresswell



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:32:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswell/pseuds/cresswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m gonna screw this up,” Clarke warned, but Raven was nudging her towards the two guys anyway. “You know that, right? I’m gonna screw this up.”</p>
<p>“I have complete and utter faith in you,” Raven promised, and with one final shove, Clarke was standing right in front of the two guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	held him captive in my kiss

Raven was getting spectacularly tipsy.

Clarke wouldn’t say she was _drunk_ yet, but she was certainly getting there. She lifted her eyes from her phone screen long enough to level Raven with a stern glare and say, “You know, if you still want me to let you leave here with somebody, you’re going to have to give the shots a break.”

Raven scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, _mom_.” But she discreetly nudged the shot glass away with her elbow.

Clarke smiled and went back to tapping away at her phone. Raven frowned and leaned into Clarke’s space, smelling strongly of alcohol. “You’ve been texting all night. What are you even doing?”

Clarke veered her arms out of Raven’s way, effectively preventing her from reading over her shoulder. “Nothing. Answering work emails.”

“Uh huh. Likely story.” Raven rested her chin on Clarke’s shoulder, gazing up at her with big puppy dog eyes. “You’re not texting He Who Shall Not Be Named, are you?”

Clarke wrinkled her nose. “Ew. No. I don’t even have his number in my phone anymore.”

Raven looked dubious, but she let the topic drop, and straightened up on her barstool again. “Clarke,” she whined, “you’re the worst wingwoman _ever_.”

“You’re the one who chose me,” Clarke pointed out. “You know I’m no good at… this.”

“At socializing? Yeah, I know.” Raven snickered when Clarke flipped her off, and then she hopped up off her stool, grabbing her friend’s hand. “Come on, let’s go dance. Then we can find some hot guys, yeah?” She paused. “Or girls.”

Clarke gave her a dry smile. “Thank you, but I’m good. You go have fun, though, okay?”

“No way,” Raven said, her grip turning vice-like on Clarke’s wrist. “You’re not getting out of this one. Now get your cute ass on the dance floor!”

Clarke laughed, letting Raven drag her along. “You have a pretty cute ass yourself.”

“I know.” Raven flicked her hair, and Clarke leaned back enough to avoid getting smacked in the face with it. “Now help me find a guy, wingwoman!”

She dragged Clarke through the throng of people- most of whom were clearly pretty smashed- and didn’t stop until they were smack dab in the middle. “Ravennnn,” Clarke groaned, but her voice probably wasn’t heard over the loud music.

Raven said something that looked like _DANCE WITH ME, DUMBASS,_ so Clarke rolled her eyes and slipped her arms around Raven’s waist. They weren’t new to this- they’d gone clubbing countless times since The Finn Incident, and Clarke knew it was always better to dance with a trusted girlfriend than a creepy drunk guy you met five minutes ago.

“What about him?” She said into Raven’s ear, nodding over her shoulder. Raven twisted around to look, her hips still swinging to the music.

“Ooh, he’s cute,” She grinned. “You know I’m a sucker for guys in plaid.”

“Oh.” Clarke had actually meant the guy’s friend- tall, dark, and obscenely handsome- but the guy Raven was eyeing up was okay too. “Yeah.”

“Well.” Raven raised an eyebrow at her. “Go do your job.”

Clarke stared. “What?”

“Your job. As my wingwoman.”

“Um… which is what?”

Raven huffed out a sigh. “To scope him out. You know, see if he’s single, if he has emotional baggage, if he’s trying to get over a breakup, if he has an accent…” She waggled her eyebrows at the last one. “Come on, Clarkey. The sooner you hook me up with someone, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

“I’m gonna screw this up,” Clarke warned, but Raven was nudging her towards the two guys anyway. “You know that, right? I’m gonna screw this up.”

“I have complete and utter faith in you,” Raven promised, and with one final shove, Clarke was standing right in front of the two guys.

Raven’s guy gave her a dazzling smile, and Clarke tried to return it. “Well, hello there,” he said, all charm. Clarke tried not to wince. “How may we help you this fine evening?”

Clarke tried to be casual, leaning against a nearby pool table and crossing her ankles daintily. “I just wanted to say hi,” she said, sparing a glance at the taller guy. He was glaring at her, a scowl on his face, and she felt herself sit up a little straighter. “You guys looked like you were having fun.”

At this, the taller guy raised an eyebrow, a nasty smirk on his face. “Really? That’s your opener?”

Clarke tilted her head. “Excuse me?”

“Your friend sends you over here to butter up Wick-”

“What kind of name is _Wick?”_

“-but it’s obvious you’ve never done this before,” the guy continued, a little louder. Clarke tilted her chin up in defiance. “But it doesn’t matter, because Wick will go for her anyway, so your work here is done.” He gave her a little wave. “Bye. Time for you to go.”

Clarke glared at him. “No, I don’t think so.” She tapped her chin as if she were thinking very hard, and let her gaze travel up and down his body. To his credit, he didn’t flinch. (And he was also very attractive.) “Let’s see. You’re over here with your no-homo-bromo Wick because _you_ just got dumped. It was probably one of your first serious relationships so you wanted to drink all your sorrows away. But now that you’re here, you’re just too sad to get drunk, am I right? And you’re taking all your anger out on the cute girl who happened to wander over.” Clarke gave him a chilly smile. “And you’re even _more_ upset because you think I’m hot.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

The guy’s jaw was clenched so tightly she thought it would pop. She waited for a reaction, gazing cooly up at him with her hands crossed over her chest, and tried not to think about how attractive he was.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said finally. He grabbed a random glass that wasn’t even his and tossed it back before stomping off.

Clarke jogged after him. “Oh, but I do. I see guys like you all the time. I _date_ guys like you. Girls like me _like_ guys like you. You’re dark and brooding and sexy and hurting. It’s the perfect package, really.”

He stopped and she nearly ran into his back. He turned around slowly, a smile threatening his lips. “Did you just call me sexy?”

“I- what?” Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

“Really,” he said, voice flat. “Because I’m pretty sure you did.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Clarke declared, but her voice was unsteady, and she couldn’t bring herself to look straight at him. “I didn’t- I wouldn’t say that.”

He made a contemplative noise somewhere in the back of his throat and stepped closer. It should have come off as predatory, but it didn’t, and Clarke’s only thought was _I want him closer. Closer. Closer._

“Well,” he said, his voice low and deep, “not that it matters what I think, but you’re pretty sexy yourself.”

She dragged her gaze up to his face. His eyes were on her mouth, and his bottom lip was tugged between his teeth, and she wanted so very badly to kiss him. He must have felt the same way, because a second later he was sliding his hand up to her jaw and tilting her face up. Their noses bumped, and for a second they just breathed in each other’s air, but then Clarke leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.

She’d always imagined that her first in-bar kiss would be a lot dirtier, and she’d be a lot more drunk, but she decided this was pretty good, too. Their lips slid together, and against his mouth, she mumbled, “Clarke.”

He paused, pulling away just enough to frown at her. “What?”

“That’s my name. Clarke.”

“Oh.” He smiled, pulling her closer by her hips. “I’m Bellamy,” he said, and then he was kissing her again.

She started moving them towards the bathroom, their kisses turning messy and fierce, and his lips slipped against her temple as he straightened up to make sure they were headed in the right direction. She prayed to god that no one was currently in the bathroom, because if they were, they were going to get kicked out.

She pushed him up against the closed bathroom door and kissed him senseless, knocking on the panelling next to his head. No one protested, so they stumbled into the bathroom, giggling and tripping all over each other.

The walls were covered in colorful graffiti and Clarke let him pin her up against one, his hands sliding up her thighs, rucking her skirt up. She sucked a bruising kiss to his neck and wrestled with the buttons on his shirt, feeling a little shiver go through her when he moaned. His chest was broad and rough beneath her hands and she tilted her head back against the wall, trailing her fingers down his sides, feeling his hands sneak higher and higher up her thighs. They were so close to where she wanted them- she totally should’ve worn a pair of cuter panties, but whatever- when her phone buzzed.

“Don’t answer that,” Bellamy mumbled against her neck.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she assured, and hiked her leg up around his hip, huffing impatiently. He laughed breathlessly at her.

Her phone buzzed again.

“Okay, hold on, lemme just turn it off-” she pulled it from where it was tucked safely into her bra. Bellamy gave her a bewildered look, and she rolled her eyes, checking the screen.

_New Message from: Raven Baeyes_

_CLARKEEEEE whatever you did worked!! Thank you bb! :*_

_Wick and I are leaving now. I’m assuming your lack of response means you’re finally getting laid. GO GET ‘EM TIGER!!_

Clarke laughed, shutting her phone off and setting it on the counter. Bellamy tilted his head to the side and smiled at her. “What?”

“My friend and your friend are totally getting it on.”

“Oh.” Bellamy frowned. “I forgot about them.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Clarke hopped up onto the counter, her back against the grimy mirror, and pulled Bellamy flush against her. “Now are you going to fuck me or what?”


End file.
